


Angry Heroism

by maddiehatter109



Category: Original Work
Genre: i am trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 16:36:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14116482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddiehatter109/pseuds/maddiehatter109
Summary: This is the story of Georgia Lee Daniels, a young girl with a great power and a great aspiration. To become a hero of the world and fighting for the safety of others, human or otherwise.





	Angry Heroism

**CHAPTER ONE**

Lessons; or, Mornings Are Fun, Right?

 

_Swaying._

_Swelling._

_Swishing._

_Seas._

 

The same dream, every night. In a boat, floating along. Just her and the

 

_Swaying._

_Swelling._

_Swishing._

_Seas._

 

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

 

“Georgia Lee, get out of bed,” her mothers voice shrieked as the covers were ripped off of her. “You’ll be late for the lesson! You really need to take more responsibility, what if I hadn’t come and woke you up?!” George sat straight up in bed, heart pounding from the rude awakening. What time was it…? Before she could ask, her mother stormed out of the room, rudely leaving the door open behind her.

 

George groggily and slowly scooted off her bed, straightening the blue comforter and her pillow ( _Just because you never have people over doesn’t mean you can act like a pig, Georgia Lee_ ). George turned off her little owl nightlight resting on the bedside table, quietly shut her door, then went to her closet. She grabbed her jacket ( _Georgia Lee, that jacket isn’t very lady-like. Why can’t you wear something else?_ ) and a pair of grey jeans, changing into them. Her room was fairly empty, she didn’t have any toys anymore ( _Georgia Lee, if you can’t clean up after yourself, we’ll just get rid of them!_ ) and even if she wanted toys, they could be a choking hazard for the baby.

 

That little gremlin she was forced to room with, who cried in the middle of the night, and wouldn’t stop until George left the warmth of her bed and held her, or _changed_ her, or **_fed_ ** her. What maniac needed to eat at 2 am?! Really, that baby must have been doing just to spite her…

 

Speaking of which… The child was awake, squealing, demanding attention. Really, the child was 3 now, and hadn’t needed to be changed or fed in quite a while. But still! George was bitter. “Geooorgie,” the child called from her little kitty bed ( _Well, maybe we’d get you a nice bed too if you weren’t such a little brat, Georgia Lee_ ), smiling sleepily, stuffed kitten in her arms, “Morming!”

 

The kid had learned to talk fairly quickly. In fact, she learned to do _everything_ quickly.

It _pissed George off._

“I don’t got time ta talk,” she snapped, “I gotta go.” Without another word, she rushed out of the room, leaving that gremlin, rushing headlong down the hall and to the living room, where her father was eating breakfast and lounging on the couch, reading a magazine with a huge shotgun on the front. She went over, draping her body over the back of the couch ( _Georgia Lee, if you keep doing that the couch will break! I ain’t made of money!_ ). “Whatcha readin’, pop?” He muttered something about guns and adult stuff, which apparently was the subject of his reading.

“Shouldn’t you be gettin’ ready for class,” he inquired, smirk on his face. “What’ll ya teacher think?”

“I’m already ready!”

“Jacket?”

“Yup.”

“You sleep?’

“Uh huh!”

“You got ya pants on this time?”

“That was one time...”

“Once is enough, kiddo.” He closed his magazine and put it down on the coffee table, standing up with a pop of his knees and a crack from his back. “A’right, let’s go then. Put on ya boots,” he ordered, “we’re goin’ out for this lesson.”

 

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

The snow was falling at an alarming rate, as was to be expected in the middle of winter. Her boots were the only line of defense against the ankle high mass, but it was still freezing. Her dad had driven her far out of the city and to a more rural area, where the were now walking for god knows what reason. She was struggling to both keep up and keep away the cold, when finally her father stopped. “This is far enough,” he said, turning to face her. A light flickered in his palm, and a mesmerizing purple and blue beam shot out, straight into the air. Georges eyes went wide as a smile grew on her face. “You mean ‘m gonna learn that?!” Her father smiled. “That’s right. Today we learn to expel magic.”

 

Her father was one of few humans in the world who could use this ability. Even as a child, he had been able to form beautiful beams of light from his hands and eyes, amazing his parents. He had inherited this ability from his mother, who inherited it from her father, who inherited it from his mother, and so on. And George wanted to be just as good as all of them.

 

“Now Georgia,” her father said, “what I want you to do is focus on your center.” They had talked about that in the very first lesson. Her center was where her power originated from. Her fathers center was located in his head, while Georges was in her chest. He had said something about magic having a lot to do with semantics, but George kinda zoned out when he was talking about that. “Now feel yourself push the flow to your hand. Gently. Don’t overwhelm it. And if you feel too much pressure inside there, try and send the flow in another direction.”

“But why?” That part got a bit confusing. “What’ll happen? Why does changing the flow help?”

Her father went into thought for a bit before speaking again. “Think of it like a dry river getting filled with water. If it has one path, there’s more water for less area, which makes the water rough. But if you got different ways for the water to go, the roughness ain’t as rough.” He paused. “I think.”

 

Ok. Easy enough. She dug down deep, felt the distant burning of her magic, and sent it. In her hand, a pink light was forming.

 

And it _burned._


End file.
